


golden flowers

by ectoviolet



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Chara Eats The Hell, Gen, Illness, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5175263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectoviolet/pseuds/ectoviolet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asriel and Chara have a plan</p>
            </blockquote>





	golden flowers

**Author's Note:**

> posted also to my tumblr http://ectoviolet.tumblr.com/post/132823184158/golden-flowers

 They don't taste like you'd imagined. Somehow, you'd though flowers should be sweet, the kind of sickly nectar of honey. Instead, they're bitter and pulpy and won't go down, won't go down, and you make Asriel hold your hand when you try to swallow, and you know you're squeezing too hard because he's crying, but you're crying too, so it's even.

 You smile when you've finally got down the first mouthful.

 “Are you okay?” His eyes are wide, tearfully shining.

 You wipe at your cheeks with your dirty hands, and then wipe his. “Of course not, stupid.” You can feel the flowers trying to crawl back up, up, up from your stomach. You gag, clench your hand over your mouth, and swallow again. It stings. “Fuck.”

 “Y-you shouldn't...” He trails off, staring at something. You turn to follow his gaze, but nothing's there.

 “How much more do you think I have to eat?” You stare at the yellow meadow.

 “M-maybe that's enough,” he stammers.

 “Don't be dumb. Of course it isn't.” Your stomach is cramping badly now. “Dad ate more than that, and it only made him sick.”

 “W-well,” he plays with his hooves nervously. “Maybe you should be sick first.”

 Your eyes widen. That's actually... A good idea. “Yeah. Then Mom and Dad won't know...” You take one more handful and shove them into your pocket. For snacking, you think, and then laugh to yourself a little. “You'll have to sneak more to me over the next few days.”

 “I...” He shifts around nervously.

 “ _Come on,”_ you snap. “You want to go up there, right?”

 “I-I...”

 “Asriel, quit being such a _baby!”_ He wanted this! Why is he balking now?

 “I don't want you to...” He can't even say it. God. He's crying now, too.

 You take his ears, pulling them just a little, and then use them to wipe his cheeks. “It's fine. Cause once I die, we'll be together-together. We'll be the same. It will be better than being siblings.”

 He nods.

 “Cause we're supposed to be together, right, As?”

 “Right.”

 “Cause only you understand.” You sqeeze his hoof. “Right?”

 “Right.”

 You sigh heavily and lean against him, an almost-hug. “I don't feel so good. Let's go home now, okay?”

 “Okay.” He helps you up and begins to walk you back Home.

 As you walk, you nibble on another flower. You think you may be beginning to like the taste.

...

 “Mom, it's Chara,” Asriel says from within the house.

 You sit on the floor by the doorway and begin unlacing your shoes.

 “Chara? What is it?” Her voice rises with worry.

 Your fingers are sort of fumbling with your laces, which isn't normal for you, and your stomach is really hurting.

 “They're sick.”

 “Oh, dear...”

 Their voices are approaching. You pull off your shoes without undoing the laces.

 “You don't look well, my child,” Mom scoops you up in one motion. She holds you to her chest. You lean into her, pressing your face into her shoulder. “We'll put you to bed,” she murmurs. “Your father will be home soon.”

 You let your hand drop down, searching for Asriel's hoof. He grabs your hand and holds it.

 “Did anything happen to them?” Mom asks, as she begins carrying you down the hall.

 “No, they just...” Asriel falters. “They threw up, and... they said they don't feel good...”

 Suddenly, your throat burns, and you cough-gag into Mom's shoulder, and there's something warm and wet around your mouth, and salt and copper coating your tongue.

 Asriel lets out a surprised bleat, and instantly begins crying.

 “Hush, darling,” Mom whispers, though her voice too is rising. “Chara, are you alright, my dear?”

 “Tastes bad,” you grunt. Not nearly as bad as the flowers, but...

 “I know, I know,” she soothes. “I...” She shifts you, carefully lies you in bed. “I'll clean you up.”

 You can see her now, there's a spatter of blood on her sleeve. She hurries out of the room.

 Asriel kneels by your bed. “Chara,” he whimpers, “this isn't good...”

 You tug on one of his ears with one clumsy hand. “Don't be silly, billy-goat,” you chide, rolling your eyes. “This is supposed to happen.” It hurts, though. Your throat and your mouth and your stomach, all of it hurts.

 Mom comes in with a damp cloth, and wipes it around your mouth. “Perhaps I'd best call your father now,” she says softly. “Would you like some water?”

 Water. Yes, you want water. You nod. She hurries out again.

 “You'll have to get me some from the garden tomorrow,” you tell Asriel when she's gone. “The ones in my pocket will dry out. Doesn't work when they're dry.”

 He nods. “How long will it take?”

 “Not long.”

 “Are you sure it will work like we planned it?”

 “Don't you trust me?”

 “Of course I do.”

 You smile at him.

 He smiles back.

 This will work.

...

 “Dad wants to know if you think you could eat,” Asriel says.

 You let out a noncomittal grunt. Maybe mixing it with real food will get the flowers down easier. It hurts more every time.

 “He wants to get your strength up,” Asriel adds.

 “What are we eating?” talking hurts your throat.

 “H-he made butterscotch pie.”

 A laugh tears out of your throat. You can't control it. You hunch over, curl into yourself, shaking with laughter. Tears roll down your cheeks, because it hurts to laugh, it hurts really bad, and you think you taste blood, but it's just so funny, it's just so so funny.

 From the corner of your eye, vision blurred with tears, you can see Mom and Dad peeking in the doorway. You keep laughing, keep laughing, even though you think you hear someone crying.

 It's just so funny.

...

 It occurs to you, at some point, that normal people are afraid to die. _Are_ you afraid? You don't know. You're in pain, but pain and fear are very different. Pain usually comes after fear.

 “As?” You don't even open your eyes to look for him. You know he's there, you can hear him whimpering at the edge of your bed.

 “Chara?”

 “It's coming soon,” you tell him. You feel a cloth at your lips. He's still trying to wipe away the blood. You let him, but only because you couldn't stop him if you wanted to.

 “I don't want to,” he says softly. “I—I want to stop now.”

 “We can't stop anymore.” It's true. There's too much poison in your body at this point.

 “Chara...” He bumps his forehead against your hand. You tug at his ear.

 “I want you to put all the rest of the flowers in my nice cream,” you say. “It hurts real bad, As. So I want to go tonight.”

 “I don't want you to leave me,” he sobs, grabbing your hand. “Chara, please, we're... best friends forever. I love you.”

 “I'm not leaving, dummy.” You try to squeeze his hand back, but your fingers aren't responding quite right. “Don't cry about it anymore... it's... embarrassing.”

...

 “Chara, you can't give up just yet!”

...

 “Stay determined!”

...

 “Please...”

...

 “Chara, please...”

...

 “Wake up...”

...

 “I don't like this plan anymore...”

...

 

Seeing through your brother's eyes... feeling no pain... it fills you with... determination...


End file.
